


I Couldn’t Help It (It’s All Your Fault)

by Paraprosdokia (ChangeableConsistency)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers Family, Avengers Movie Night, Bucky takes that back, Gen, M/M, Napping, Rated T for swearing, Snark, Stealth Fluff, Steve + magic is the worst, Steve is THE WORST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28354248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeableConsistency/pseuds/Paraprosdokia
Summary: Five times Bucky slept with Sam on accident and the one time he did it on purpose.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 69
Collections: fandomtrees





	I Couldn’t Help It (It’s All Your Fault)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chase_acow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chase_acow/gifts).



**1**

It was a long night followed by an even longer fight and Bucky is just exhausted. 

It’s not an excuse, okay, it’s a _reason_. 

Maybe it’s because Barton is a surprisingly competent driver, still hopped up on adrenine and caffeine he had offered to take the wheel of van (Steve, the absolute _bastard_ had called shotgun relegating Bucky and Wilson to the middle bench; Wilson’s stupid broken wings taking up the back half of the van). 

And it maybe happens because they’re both too tired to snipe at one another, and maybe they’ve been… he hates to use the term but it’s accurate— _thawing_ towards one another, and maybe, _maybe_ , he’s sort of— and fuck if he’s letting Wilson ever getting a hint of this, maybe he’s starting to trust the guy to have his back and so when he starts nodding off he decides ‘ _Fuck it_ ,’ and lets his eyes drift shut and his head relax.

Next thing he knows he’s blinking awake, his head on Wilson’s shoulder and Wilson’s head on his and he bolts upright knocking their heads together with a painful click and he growls out, “You better not have fucking drooled on me.”

“Fuck you, Barnes, if anyone was drooling it was you,” Wilson says with a huff and turns to face the van’s window, dismissive and biting.

On the upside looks like they aren’t going to talk about it. 

**2**

Wilson sits down in the seat next to him, even though there are half a dozen other seats on the quinjet to choose from. 

“Move,” Bucky says.

“You move.”

“I was here first.”

“Yeah, well I’m not moving. What, you wanna tell Steve I’m looking out your window?”

Bucky glowers and starts to get up but sees the flash of mocking triumph in Wilson’s eyes so just uses the move to settle in more firmly.

He isn’t sure when he drifts off to sleep but when he wakes up his head is on Wilson’s shoulder again and Wilson’s head is on his. This time he’s careful sitting up, moving so that Wilson’s head is pooled on Bucky’s shoulder and watches Wilson doze with a grin. 

Bucky’s going to give him so much shit when he wakes up.

**3**

Bucky’s gotten used to Wilson sitting next to him on their way out to and back from missions, it had started off as a dare and now it’s— and he will die before he admits it— companionable. 

That is until Wilson starts poking his left arm.

“Quit it.”

“How much do you actually feel with that thing, anyway?”

Bucky shrugs, “Dunno, it’s just my arm, man.”

Sam pokes him again. 

“Quit it.”

“No, really, inquiring minds want to know.”

“Inquiring— what? I said quit it.”

“Is it just like pressure, or is it temperature sensitive, too,” Wilson pokes him again.

Bucky fends off his hand, grabbing his wrist in his metal fingers and holding it still, “I said quit it. Now you don’t get this back until we get home,” Bucky isn’t sure when Avenger’s tower became ‘home’ but there you go.

“Oh, come on, Barnes, give me my hand back.”

“No.”

“ _Barnes_.”

“No.”

“Asshole.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow at Wilson, locks his fingers in place, then tilts his head back and closes his eyes, they’ve got a good hour still to go, may as well as get a nap in.

“Seriously?”

Bucky fakes a snore.

“ _Asshole,”_ Wilson whispers, but when Bucky peeks out of the corner of his eye, Wilson has slouched back and closed his eyes and when his light snore comes Bucky can tell he isn’t faking it. 

Bucky mentally shrugs and closes his eyes again, letting himself drift off to sleep.

**4**

“Steve, look out!” Wilson shouts, swooping down to try and pull Steve out of the honest to God fucking _wizard’s_ blast, managing to get both of them hit, the idiot. 

Suddenly Bucky’s being drawn across the street like a giant invisible hand has picked him up and set him down right next to Wilson and Steve. 

There’s a whoop and a, “Got him!” from Barton as the arrow that hits the bubble protecting the wizard spreads some sort of purple goo over it, apparently trapping the wizard inside, “At least, I think I got him? Somebody who isn’t me should check. But, uh. Don’t touch any of the putty, it’s sticky and won’t break down for at least an hour.”

“How exactly are we supposed to check, Birdbrain?”

“I don’t know Shellhead, you’re the genius, use one of your scanner thingies.”

Bucky doesn’t really have time for their bickering, he’s too busy checking Steve over, trying to figure out what the wizard did, pushing Wilson out of the way; he’s startled when a hawk swoops down out of nowhere to land on Wilson’s shoulder, “What the fuck?”

“Oh. Uh. I’m not sure exactly what that spell did, but I think I might have been some sort of monkey’s paw wish thing?” Wilson says as the bird proceeds to shit down his back, “Oh come on, Redwing, yeah, I know, it’s something birds do but could you at least do it to Barnes?”

The bird leaps off of Wilson and over to Bucky and Bucky backs away as fast as he can, stumbling and tripping as he slams into absolutely nothing, “What the fuck.”

“Kidding, I was kidding. Mostly. What? Yeah, go ahead.”

“Sam, what’s going on?” Steve asks.

“So, it looks like Redwing is a real bird and I sort of have a telepathic connection with him. So far he’s mostly hungry. It’s uh. The images he’s been sending have been sort of graphic. And disgusting. I told him he could go eat a few pigeons as long as I don’t have to see it.”

Bucky can’t help it, he laughs out loud. Quietly at first and then louder and stronger until he’s doubled up with his hands on his knees, right up until Wilson says, “Oh, fuck you, Barnes,” and starts walking away and Bucky is pulled helplessly along behind him.

“What the fuck!” Bucky shouts, all trace of mirth gone.

“Oops,” Steve says, “I think… that might be my fault? I’ve been… sort of wishing that you would spend more time with Sam, I’m sure you guys would be friends if you just gave him half a chance.”

“You _what!?”_

Steve shrugs and gives him an exasperated look, both an apology and a silent ‘suck it up’ all in one. 

Luckily once they get the wizard free and safely secured, he tells them that the spell will only last a couple hours. It’s not supposed to be dangerous, just mildly inconvenient, it was supposed to be something to distract Steve not hurt him.

What it does mean is that Bucky is stuck being within five feet of Wilson until it wears off; they go over their options and eventually decide to watch a couple of movies while trying to ignore each other.

Honestly, it’s not as bad as it could have been, though Wilson’s tastes in movies suck, and Bucky finds himself drifting off to sleep on the couch next to him. 

He ends up cuddled against Sam’s chest and when something wakes him up he looks over and the birdstand Tony had manufactured no longer has red tailed hawk staring at him suspiciously, instead Redwing is back to being its normal mechanical self, (seriously, the future is amazing) sitting off kilter where it’s fallen to the floor.

“Wazza?” Sam mumbles.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” Bucky says, instead of getting up he settles back down.

What? It’s comfortable and Bucky’s tired, it doesn’t mean anything. 

**5**

It’s movie night at Avengers’ Tower, something Bucky never misses. Ever since he was a kid he’s loved movies, and Stark has a better than lifelike set up with ‘immersive surround sound’ and Bucky loves it enough that he actually told Stark, even though that guy’s ego doesn’t need any help.

He’s running late, which means he’s the last one there and the only place left to sit is the floor, and Bucky absolutely does not pout; Talia notices because she notices everything and she gives him a smile that has him nervous all of a sudden. 

She materializes a comb somehow and pokes it into Barton’s side, “Braid me.”

They have a quick silent conversation in that Best Friend Telepathy way that Bucky totally gets because he has that with Steve, and Talia slides off the couch and in between Barton’s legs where he starts coming through her hair. 

He appreciates it, or he would, if she hadn’t been sitting next to Sam on her other side. 

Still the couch is comfortable and it would look weird now if he didn’t take her seat, and he tries to ignore the warm length of Sam up his side fighting down a blush as he remembers the last time they were on this couch together to watch a movie. 

It’s Thor’s turn to pick the movie, which is why it’s Fellowship of the Ring because Thor loves Boromir’s redemption arc. Bucky prefers Return of the King, but they’re good movies regardless. 

He must be more tired than he thought because about halfway through he feels his eyes start to close and he’s about to pull away from where he’s leaning against Sam, but Sam puts his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and tugs him in closer so he thinks, ‘ _To hell with it,’_ and lets himself fall asleep, crinkling his nose at the satisfied look Talia gives him.

**+1**

“Lookin’ a little ragged there, Buck,” Sam says, eyes running over Bucky in away that makes him uncomfortable, but, and don’t ask him to explain it, kind of… good? 

“Fuck off.”

Sam pours himself some orange juice after his God awful early run with Steve, he’s fresh from the shower and about a million times better looking— and more chipper— than he has any right to be, “You get any sleep?”

“Fuck off.”

“Uh-huh. Okay, yeah, here’s what we’re gonna do,” he says, downing his juice and setting the glass in the sink. He comes around and takes Bucky’s left arm, because the asshole seems to look for any excuse to touch it, Bucky’s pretty sure Sam has a _thing_ for his arm. He sits on the couch and opens his arms, “Come you grumpy old man, you need a nap.”

“Fuck off,” he says after a beat but Sam’s arms look far too inviting and Bucky _does_ need a nap. He gets settled in Sam’s arm’s and Sam drags one of the afghan’s that Bruce crochets as part of his calming regimen, “You’re still an asshole.”

Sam chuckles, “Gets some rest, jackass,” and if it’s missing the bite it normally has, if it’s maybe a little affectionate, Bucky’s not telling anybody.

“Fuck off,” Bucky says in the same tone, absolutely not snuggling in closer before closing his eyes and letting himself drift off to sleep. 


End file.
